Baby, it's cold outside
by SageK
Summary: Jack and Erica on Christmas Eve. For firstlady1408 who asked for: Jack/Erica exchange presents  and they don't have to be of the wrapped variety


Christmas Eve was a time for family, a night when mothers tucked their children into bed to dream of the day to come. Every Christmas Eve, Erica Evans would make a nice meal and Tyler, as he got older, would pretend to be annoyed. Then he'd get to open one present, a pair of new PJ's, then it was off to bed.

It wasn't much, but it was tradition.

This year however, Tyler had announced that he was going to spend Christmas Eve up on the mothership with Lisa and Anna…to introduce them to the holiday. He was adamant and refused to change his mind, even when Lisa suggested they spend the night with Erica.

The more Erica got to know the young V princess/rebel, the more she liked her…and felt sorry for her. Aside from the whole secret evil alien overlord thing, Anna was not a good mother and Lisa had no friends left on the ship after Joshua's true loyalties had been revealed to Anna.

When the V medic had taken the fall for destroying Anna's eggs, Erica had shot him (at his insistence) but hadn't killed him. It was Lisa who found out he was still alive and being tortured and somehow managed to get him off of the ship and down to the resistance before Marcus managed to break him. Now he and Hobbes had a really amusing Odd Couple vibe going on at the Fifth Column HQ.

On the plus side, Erica had never seen the place look so clean. After Joshua attacked the place with the cleaning products he managed to get a hold of, you could probably eat off of the floor, where as before leaning against a wall for any length of time made you want to get a tetanus shot.

Neither of them seemed particularly invested in the holiday, understandable considering Joshua was an alien and Hobbes was…Hobbes. Father Jack Landry however, after hearing about her Tyler-less state, pulled her aside and asked if she'd like to attend midnight mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral with him.

Not a Catholic, Erica had never been to one before, but she enjoyed the service, the songs, the sense of unity…and, when everyone held their lit candles, it was lovely.

After the mass, since neither of them were tired, she invited Jack back to her place for a drink and he'd accepted, walking with her to her car in the light snowfall.

During the drive home, the snow had only intensified and she was thrilled to make it to the safety of her home. While she poured the wine, Jack busied himself at the fireplace and soon a crackling fire was lit.

They settled onto the couch, relaxing back into the cushions, Nat King Cole's voice providing a soft, familiar background noise. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked, knowing church wasn't a part of her day to day life.

"I did," she said smiling. "I can see why that becomes a part of peoples yearly traditions. The candles were really breathtaking."

Nodding, he said, "Usually, I'm up at the pulpit and looking out at the illuminated faces of my congregation was one of the highlights of the year."

That brought a question to mind. "Why weren't you saying mass at St. Josephine's?"

Jack heaved a sigh and looked into his wine glass, raising it to his lips, but lowering it before he'd taken more than a small sip. A drop of merlot clung to his lower lip and Erica forced herself not to look at it…because one simply did not stare a priests lips.

But those lips were moving, silently forming aborted words and the tip of his tongue flicked out, catching the drop and leaving the skin damp. "I won't be saying mass anymore," he finally managed to say, sitting up and placing his glass on the table. Hunching over, his elbows rested on his knees and he raised one hand to knead the back of his neck. "I received the final censure for my refusal to adhere to doctrine regarding the V's. I've been dismissed from the clerical state."

It took a moment for her to process that. "They fired you!" she exclaimed, feeling a swell of indignance on his behalf. "When did this happen?"

His head remained bowed and his eyes closed. "A few days ago."

There were questions swirling through her mind, thoughts that clambered for attention, so she simply blurted, "Are you all right? Where are you staying? How could they just do that?"

He turned his head and offered her a sort of sad smile. "It's the church's prerogative to defrock any priest for disciplinary matters or disagreements over doctrine or dogma. I knew this might happen…but I was hoping it wouldn't." Clearly, he was addressing her last question first. "My niece lives in the city, so I'm staying with her for now. I'm…I'll be all right. At the moment I'm a little adrift. I was 20 when my path became clear…More than half my life has been dedicated to the church."

Really, how was one supposed to respond to that. 20 years old…she didn't know Jack's exact age, but she'd guess somewhere between 40 and 45, which was just…She was devoted to her career and, as much as the Bureau was a major part of her life, she doubted it compared to what Jack felt toward his avocation…former avocation.

Before she could think better of the action, Erica moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. He leaned into her touch, his own arms coming up to hold her loosely.

It was a little awkward, with him being bigger than she was, but she stroked the back of his neck and rocked him gently, as though comforting a child, murmuring nonsense reassurances. "Maybe," she offered tentatively, "When they truth comes out, they'll ask you back."

His breath puffed warmly against her neck. "Once dismissed, a priest can only be reinstated by papal decree…It's not like I never questioned my path. The way I see it, fate is determined by how we react to the challenges He poses to us."

"So, this is what God wanted?" She understood that Jack held his faith very close to his heart, even if it wasn't something she could really relate to.

"Perhaps." He shifted and they parted, each retrieving their glasses. "Free will and faith aren't mutually exclusive."

It was well after 1 am and they were working their way through a bottle of wine…so, not the time to get into a philosophical discussion. "I'll trust you on that," she said and he chuckled and sipped wine.

"Guess it's a little late to be having this conversation," he agreed, letting his head fall back to look at the ceiling. She watched his Adam's Apple bob, the long column of his neck looking suddenly bare without the collar, though she had often seen him without it before.

Oh.

This changed things.

Jack had been a priest, forbidden fruit, oh so tempting and untouchable all at once.

Suddenly, touching (well, more touching than the occasional hug) was an option. She wondered if that had occurred to him yet. Even with the restrictions set in place by his former office, there had been a spark between them, an attraction that just seemed to grow as they got to know each other.

It was probably all too much for him to think about at once, what with having such a drastic life change thrust upon him. The last thing he'd be thinking about would be his newly expanded social horizons. Unfortunately, between the warmth of the fire, his close proximity and the half bottle of wine now circulating through her body, Erica's mind seemed singularly focused on that topic.

"Coffee!" she said suddenly, deciding a distraction was a good idea. What was not a good idea was jumping to her feet. Half a bottle was not enough to get her drunk, but she was a bit buzzed and she was an example of why they called it tipsy.

As soon as she was upright, she was stumbling forward, off balance and already resigning herself to an undignified sprawl over the coffee table. Before it came to that, a strong hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged, counteracting her fall and yanking her back towards the couch.

Somehow, she turned mid tumble and ended up in Jack's lap, facing him, nose to nose, chest to chest, thighs straddling his denim clad hips. Her hands rested on his chest she could probably feel his pulse jump. Blue eyes met blue and their breaths mingled as they froze, so close, and she gasped, "Well, that was graceful."

He let out a laugh and she felt the rumble in his torso. "9.5. A little wobbly in the air, but you stuck the landing."

A voice in her head informed her that this would be the time to climb off of his lap, but then his hands settled on her hips, flexing slightly. She wet her lips and tried to breathe normally as her hands curled into the material of his shirt. Her eyes drifted downward, lingering on his lips and she let out a soft huff of a breath.

This was just too freaking much.

Closing her eyes, Erica leaned forward and her forehead rested lightly against his own, feeling the tiny tremors in his muscles as he reacted to that. All there was the sound of his breath, so near, the intoxicating scent of his skin and the feel of him against him.

She bit her lip as one hand slid from her hip down to her outer thigh before he realized what he was doing an pulled the hand back. She thought for sure he'd make some comment, try to reestablish the distance between them, but he simply used the hand to brush her hair back, tucking it gently behind her ear. When he finished, he allowed the hand to rest on her shoulder, but continued to toy with the ends of her hair.

Turning her head into the touch, noses brushing and she felt his lashes flutter against her skin.

"Erica." His voice was soft and held a sort of painful longing that made her heart ache. Unable to help herself, she cupped his face in her hands and arched towards him, hips rolling atop his in a frankly sensual manner. Even through the heavy fabrics of their pants, she could feel the effect their little encounter was having on him.

"Jack," she replied, so close her lips brushed his with a feather light caress as she spoke. She couldn't kiss him, no matter how tempting the idea was. That was a step he had to take first…

And take it he did. Leaning slightly forward, he captured her mouth with his own, sweet and tentative at first, but his confidence quickly built as she returned the attentions. The hand at her neck slid to caress the side of her neck, while the other went from her hip to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Her hands went up to bury themselves in his hair, short nails lightly scraping his scalp.

He moaned a little, lips parting against hers and this time she took the initiative to brush her tongue over his bottom lip before drawing back and nipping at the tender skin with her teeth. She let out a surprised, but pleased, gasp when her action cause him to buck his hips up against her and she could fell him hard under her as his hand on her back slid lower, holding her more firmly against him. She did it once more and smiled against his mouth when the reaction was repeated.

Jack was breathing rapidly, lightly moving under her. This time it was his tongue slipping past her lips and into her mouth, an action she was glad to reciprocate. He tasted like the lush wine they'd been drinking and, oddly, peppermint candy. She started to move her own hips against him and she felt the pleasant heat and pressure building in her lower belly. From the fell of things, Jack was feeling some pressure of his own and his jeans had to be feeling a little snug about now.

As she let the fingers of her left hand dip between the buttons of his shirt, teasing the bare skin she encountered with soft touches, he let the hand that had been at her neck drift down, over her shoulder and sliding down her side, resting just under her breast. She made an encouraging sound and that seemed to be what he was waiting for. Through her shirt, his fingers traced the swell of her breast, palm dragging the material against her nipple.

Erica arched her back involuntary, pushing her breast more firmly into his warm palm, so hot, even through the shirt, as he touched her, a gentle squeeze, then his fingers tentatively circling the nipple that was already aching.

Suddenly, he moved his hand and she groaned at the loss of friction, the loss of heat, but then he pulled back from her mouth, looked into her eyes for a moment, then lowered his head. Her mouth fell open in a breathless gasp as he kissed his way down her décolletage and didn't stop when he encountered her shirt. She felt a little dazed as his wet mouth latched onto her nipple, tugging and sucking through the shirt and bra. If anything, the additional friction of the clothing was a stimulant, though she couldn't wait to feel what this would be like without the barriers.

Running her hands up and down his back and chest, rocking on his lap, she allowed the attention for a few more moments, then tugged him away from her breast, crashing her mouth back against his.

She had no idea how long they kissed for, hands dancing over their clothes, but when they parted, they were both out of breath gasping. Her skin buzzed and her lips tingled. Jack was flushed, his mouth pink, damp and slightly swollen. He looked at her with wide, aroused eyes and mussed hair.

"Bed," she said simply, scrambling off of his lap and pulling him up after her. He stayed close, pressing a kiss to the point where her neck met her shoulder and, for a second, she considered just pushing him back onto the couch and ravishing him there. Then common sense took over and she knew the bed would be a lot more comfortable and roomy.

It took them a while to make their way up the stairs, stealing kisses as their hands roamed and the second they made it into her bedroom she tugged his shirt up and over his head, completely bypassing the buttons. Hers joined his on the floor just as quickly and she gave him a gentle shove onto the bed.

He landed with a laugh, propping himself up on one elbow and extending the other hand to her. As she took it, she smiled warmly and tumbled happily into his embrace.

It turned out to be a very, very, very Merry Christmas indeed.

* * *

Comments, pretty please?


End file.
